


Ascendancy, Glory, Legacy

by eleryl2199



Category: Hamilton - Miranda (Broadway Cast) RPF, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drama & Romance, Fluff and Angst, French Kim Seokjin | Jin, Gen, Gun Violence, Hamilton References, Hoseok deserves more love, I'm not shipping Jin and Jaebum but maybe I am, Jeon Jungkook & Park Jimin Are Siblings, Jung Hoseok | J-Hope & Park Jimin Are Siblings, Kim Taehyung | V & Min Yoongi | Suga Are Best Friends, M/M, Mentioned SEVENTEEN Ensemble, Min Yoongi | Suga & Kim Namjoon | RM Are Frenemies, Minor GOT7 (Ensemble), Namjoon can be a dick, Non-Graphic Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Park Jimin Is a Sweetheart, Savage Jung Hoseok | J-Hope, Unrequited Love, War, Yoongi can be a HUGE asshole, i cant believe some of these aren't official tags, slight taegi, slight yoonseok
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-24
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-05-27 11:00:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15023135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eleryl2199/pseuds/eleryl2199
Summary: He was a scrap. His name, nothing but trash in the island he was trapped in. He suffered through hurricanes and labor and death. Now, he swore he's going to rise to the top and he's making sure to throw his name right through History's ass.Min Yoongi.Yeah, that's his name. And, he'll make sure everyone's going to read his name in your history books.





	Ascendancy, Glory, Legacy

Kim Namjoon sat alone in his study, behind his desk, a piece of parchment delicately placed infront him. The light from outside shining its dull presence over shelves upon shelved of books, of which he dedicated his life of studying all of it by heart. The shadows at the corners of the study seemed to taunt him as he struggle to move his quill to write. To just write. It takes about 34 muscles to move the fingers and the thumb; 17 for the palm; and 18 for the forearm. Not much work, so how come his hand won't cooperate? It is _easy_.

Namjoon can feel the crease between his eyebrows, and the dull pain forming behind his eyes. He would need to write. There's nothing he can offer to the man who specifically asked him to construct a memory he would rather not relive after it had happened.

And, he's not entirely sure what he's going to write. It was Jimin's request to at least give him a memory of his husband. The young man sounded too firm and headstrong from the last time Namjoon saw him. Gone was the delicate and bright Park Jimin, one of New York City's beloved bachelors. He cannot exactly blame the change that befalls the younger.  

There are just circumstances that cannot be forgotten, which would urge the beholder of such circumstances to adapt with it.

Jimin was an example.

But why the young man requested him to recall what seems to be Min Yoongi's biography, was above him. He of all people! Everyone knew better than to consider him, Kim Namjoon, to provide Min Yoongi's life.

Min Yoongi is Namjoon's pain.

 _He_ is his suffering.

 _He_ is his guilt.

 _He_ is his past he is more than willing to forget 'till he lies on his _deathbed_.

"Master?"

Namjoon snapped out of his reverie. He took note of his ragged breathing and the cold sweat that accumulated on his back. The man took his time to readjust his vision, before acknowledging the disturbance in the form of his housekeeper, a young man taller than Namjoon, who gazed at him from the carved door.

"What is it, Mingyu?" Namjoon asked, trying to cover up the shaking of his voice. 

"I was knocking for quite a while, sir. You haven't answered, so I invited myself in, if that wouldn't be any trouble?" 

Ha. Maybe he was too far from the touch of reality after all. "What brings you here that you have to disregard one of the few things I told you not to do when I am in my study," Namjoon rises from his desk, noting the creaking of knees, sign that time was catching up to him. "I hope it is not something that you yourself deem relevant, and I would find myself wasting my time." He strode over the door, crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his weight on one leg.

"A telegram arrived, my lord," Mingyu raised a single, white parchment, and handed it to his master deliberately. "It arrived so sudden, sir. Mr. Im, specifically asked me to deliver it to you immediately."

Im? Im Jaebum? What a surprise.

He smirked. If it took Jimin to contact even one of the nation's veteran spies, the young man is planning something _big._ The telegram only contained a few words, and these words were enough to make the smirk spread wider across his lips. He shoved the paper into pocket, and looked back to the young housekeeper.

"Thank you, Mingyu." He said. The young man looked a little too invested with the parchment, with the way his eyes sparkled with interest. Namjoon internally chuckled. Youth was an admirable chapter of life that  only adults looked back on. "Don't worry your pretty head, Mingyu," The way Mingyu flinched back from his daze would've made Namjoon smile endearingly, if it wasn't for his mask of indifference he was too well known of.

"It is nothing but simple clarifications from an acquaintance. I appreciate your hardwork, young man. You're off for this afternoon!" He shooed away the lanky man from his study, and proceeded to shut the door on the man's face. An agitated huff was heard from behind the door, followed by heavy footsteps, quickly disappearing as it trudge away from the study. Namjoon took a deep breath, and exhaled abruptly. He settled his expression into one of his usual stoic masks, and recalled the words the telegram contained.

 

_Let the world know. All of it._

_M. J._

 

It was like thunder colliding with metal.The produced heat thrumming underneath his fingertips. He could feel it rushing towards that cold ball of guilt in his stomach, engulfing it with its warmth. It's urging Namjoon to go all out. Revealing all of it would mean the sender basically knew what he's doing. Revealing all of it would mean it would destroy the purpose of reliving the memories of a once great name that protected and haunted the whole nation. Namjoon was tasked to build and destroy the great name of Min Yoongi. A heavy task for a man with a heavy heart.

If this would be his last punishment while he still lived on this soil, then so be it. 

Namjoon sat back once again on his desk, parchment waiting for the onslaught of ink and the legacy of a ruined man. He pulled back his quill, its inkstone not too far from his side. Flashes of images, both of unrestrained joy and terrifying despair, surging and clawing at his heart, roared at him to let all of it to be freed from its imprisonment.

The world ...

The world could never be ready for what he would unleash in a matter of time. Even those who lived in the moment of the raging wind could never prepare themselves once the whirlwind of truth had hit them.

It was because of this, Namjoon never spoke of what occured in that darkened field, even after he had to hand his testimony over the court. Confusion would be one of the guaranteed results of thks revelation.

And thus, Kim Namjoon wrote, for once in his life, like he was running out of time.

 

_Min Yoongi was a bastard, orphan, son of a whore, and a Scotsman ..._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> first fic, un-betaed, and definitely english is not my first language so sentences may tend to be awkard.
> 
> Feedback is absolutely welcome!! I would love to interact with all of you, so that i can improve my prose. Thank you for your time!!


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